


[REDACTED]

by DarknessRises



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Character, Emotional Manipulation, Foreshadowing, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, MKUltra, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessRises/pseuds/DarknessRises
Summary: Owen Carvour was deadCurt Mega was retiredBarb Larvernor was determined***In which Barb recruits Curt as a test subject for MKULTRA and later ARTICHOKE





	1. Order/Request - Barb

Doctor Barbara Lavernor gripped her lukewarm cup of tea, hands shaking slightly from exhaustion. She desperately wanted to get a cup of coffee instead, but she had stopped drinking the stuff months ago, not long after getting her promotion.

Chief Assistant Lab Technician, Biomedical Division for the American Secret Service. She’d been working towards the position for years, but now that she had it, her excitement and pride was muted by anxiety and guilt. It wasn’t the work. In fact, she loved her newfound power and freedom, Barb got to choose which projects she oversaw and talk at length with her subordinates about topics that would fly over anyone else. No, the job was perfect, but the way she got it...

Barb pushed the thought aside. She didn’t have time for this. Turning her attention back to a paper-strewn desk, she set down the tea and picked up the next file…

> Project MKULTRA Subproject 10
> 
> PROSPECTUS
> 
> In the past three years of research with the drug LSD-25, we have developed reliable methods of analyzing social situations and interactions. 0ur progress in assessing personality types 1s useful in diagnosis and prediction. These methods are based on a multidisciplinary assessment of personality under normal circumstances and under stress (i.e. drug effect).

  
  


Barb yawned. It was late at night (technically early in the morning, 2:39 AM to be exact) but she needed to get this done. She never used to have access to these files and after reading through them, she understood why. The experiments described where legally hazy at best and a massive ethics violation at worst. They would certainly cause unease throughout the agency, especially among those who were able to read between the lines. Several reports specified that the participants were witting volunteers and even included signed consent forms and NDAs, but most reports didn’t address the origin of their “test subjects”..

A very close eye might notice gaps: payments that were never made, discrepancies in the number of patients, sudden changes in methodology or results that just happen to coincide with a coworker going off the rails. It was smart to keep these documents classified. A building full of spies would blow the whole thing wide open and the experiments would be discontinued. 

But the experiments needed to be done.

Russia was a ticking time bomb. Tensions grew every day and it was only a matter of time before the superpower snapped, destroying themselves just to spite the Americans, so the Agency needed results, but speed meant cutting corners. Inevitably, someone would get hurt.

People often got hurt in the Secret Service.

Barb pulled a bright red folder towards her.

**Secret Agent Curt Mega**

Barb felt her heart flutter at the thought of him. He was arguably the greatest spy in the agency, the most valuable property of the United States government, but to those who knew him, he was so much more. He was a warm smile on dreary mornings. He was unyielding optimism in the face of certain failure. He was frank honesty that never really stung. He was upbeat and daring and so so... _ dreamy _ .

But Barb had always noticed something else, something beyond his boyish charm. Curt never accepted hugs, or much affection for that matter. Praise and recognition, sure, but never affection. At first Barb thought it was just her, but the more she watched (something she admittedly did a little too much of) the more she noticed, Curt never got close to anyone.

And he could never fail. Not that he didn’t fail, but he could never admit to it. The first time Curt really screwed up a mission, Cynthia give him hell for it, but Curt just gave the most terrifying woman in government one of his signature smiles and went out drinking with some of the guys, never speaking of the subject again. It wasn’t optimism or resilience, it was denial.

The longer she knew him, the more distracted Barb became by Curt’s dark side. It was annoyingly interesting and only served to further anamour the scientist. He was the most interesting and elusive problem she’d ever encountered. She wanted to figure him out, to be the one that discovered the true Curt Mega. 

But now she would never get the chance.

She opened the file, flipping to the last report.

> November 13, 1957
> 
> Status Update: Curt Mega
> 
> Employment: Retired
> 
> Monitoring Status: Discontinued
> 
> Purpose: Curt Mega was monitored for two months following his leave from the Agency. Undercover operatives were set up in strategic locations around the safe-house. This document contains noteworthy observations to determine if Curt Mega is fit to be considered for reentry into field work.
> 
> Timeline
> 
>   * **September 12:** Operation Peregrine failed. Agent Owen Carvour (MI6) killed in action.
>   * **September 13:** Curt Mega transferred to safehouse.
>   * **September 28:** Curt Mega left the premise for the first time since retirement. He went to a local bar. Was kicked out after instigating a bar fight.
>   * **September 29:** Repeat of previous night at a different bar.
>   * **October 3:** Left safehouse to buy alcohol. No incidents.
>   * **October 4:** Went for a walk at midday. No observed alcohol consumption. No incidents.
>   * **October 5:** Subject has left premise with a duffel bag and not returned. Agents in pursuit remaining incognito.
>   * **October 20:** Subject continued to move around, staying in motels with no clear destination. Monitoring has become more difficult. Subject likely suspects interference.
>   * **October 30: **Agent returned to safehouse. Engaged in Halloween festivities.
>   * **October 31:** Subject handed out candy.
>   * **November 5:** Subject approached an Informant and expressed knowledge of her identity as well as the identity of all other agents. Subject expressed disinterest in the agency.
>   * **November 12:** For remaining period, subjects spent most of his time at the local pub. Two violent incidents, one with an Informant.
> 
> Conclusions: Curt Mega is an identified alcoholic, prone to outbursts, and shows no interest in association with the Agency. Agent Mega is not recommended for field work in the future barring reapplication or direct request from a superior officer.

The death of Owen Carvour sent Curt over the edge. All the pain and anxieties he must have been hiding, culminating in a moment. Now he was retired, so lost in grief that Barb would never get him back, not unless she did something drastic. 

Her eyes scanned over the line, “direct request from a superior officer”. It was a long shot, but she had to try. She just needed a good excuse. One that benefited the agency and one that Curt would get on board with. She pulled an old typewriter towards her and set up a fresh sheet of paper…

> November 20, 1957
> 
> To: Director Cynthia Houston
> 
> Subject: Possible Candidate for MKULTRA Subproject 66 - Curt Mega


	2. Order/Request - Curt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Implied Alcoholism and Depression
> 
> Curt gets a message and has conflicted feelings.

Curt woke to someone pounding at the door and a hangover pounding at his head.

“Curtis!” his mother called, “Can you get the door, sweetie? I’m doing a facial!”

He groaned. “Yeah mom, I got it!”

He pushed himself off the orange loveseat, kicking aside empty beer cans that dotted the floor. They clattered pathetically. As Curt meandered across the room to the front door, he tidied his hair and clothes. It was a pointless effort to regain an air of dignity, but Curt felt somehow better because of it. The throbbing behind his eyes was a pleasant distraction from his...usual train of thoughts. Maybe today would be a “good” day after all.

The knocking started again but louder and Curt swung the door open just to shut it up. Upon squinting through the too-bright daylight, the face that greeted him immediately soured his mood.

“What do you want Susan?”

The bearded man scowled. “Oh, you didn’t punch me this time. What great manners.”

Curt noted the dark bruise on Susan’s left cheek. “You deserved what you got,” he huffed.

“Hardly. You just can’t keep your cool anymore.”

“I’m going to close the door if you don’t get to the point.”

Susan gave him a disapproving look and held out a yellow clasp envelope. “I’m here to deliver a message from-”

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t want it. If it’s Cynthia, it’s a mission and I am done with all that.”

Susan smirked. “Then you’ll be happy to hear it isn’t from Cynthia. Not entirely, though I think she left a message.”

Curt stopped his motion to close the door. “Who is it from then?”

“One of the scientists: Barbara Larvarnor.”

Curt felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t spoken to her in months, not since the incident. He didn’t greet her after the mission, or say goodbye before retirement, or even thank her for her work. 

_ You left her behind. _

He didn’t want to hear her condolences. He didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes. 

_ You ran away and didn’t look back. _

He stayed home for months and never bothered to reach out. He was too busy getting drunk and picking fights. Too busy trying not to think...

_ She gave you so much and you hurt her. _

He needed to stay distracted. He needed to cut ties with the agency. Anything to keep his mind off-

_ Owen. _

No.

_ You left him behind. _

Stop.

_ You ran away and didn’t look back. He gave you so much and you killed him. _

Curt grabbed the file from Susan and slammed the door. He dropped it on the coffee table and collapsed on the loveseat.

Then he began to cry.

***

An hour later, Curt was feeling slightly less awful. His mom had entered the living room while he was sobbing into a pillow. She immediately gave him a glass of cool water, some ibuprofen, and a big hug. It seemed breakdowns were as routine for Curt as getting drunk. 

Soon Mrs. Mega went out for groceries, pestering her son to clean up his mess in the living room. He obliged and felt better still.

But that envelope was still there,  _ staring _ at him.

Curt stared back. He gingerly picked it up as if it might contain explosives, which wasn’t that ludicrous considering some of Barb’s inventions. He took his time finding a letter opener, and when he found nothing more to delay him, he sliced into the yellow paper. Pouring the contents onto the coffee table revealed it was just a stack of paper, the first of which was a note from Cynthia.

> Curt Mega,
> 
> You better not fucking ignore this or I will personally shove this file down your throat. I don’t approve this shit willy nilly and I certainly don’t send letters for fucking nothing. 
> 
> Regards,
> 
> Cynthia 
> 
> P.S. Thanks for punching Susan so I don’t have to.

Curt chuckled. It seems he wasn’t the only one Susun had pissed off. Although, making Cynthia angry isn’t a high bar to clear. The question of what exactly Cynthia had approved pushed him to read further.  The next letter was longer.

> Dear Curt,
> 
> We miss you here at the agency.
> 
> There are some amazing developments being made in the lab, but we need more participants in our clinical trials. A formal invitation has been sent with this letter. 
> 
> Unfortunately, the details of the trials are classified, but you would be briefed at the agency before signing off. What I can tell you is that there are free drinks! Plus I have some really cool gadgets I want to show you. 
> 
> It would mean the world to us if you would drop by.
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Barb

It was the last line that sold him.

When Owen died, the damage was done and could never be undone. He was gone and Curt would never see him again. There could be no apologies, no way to make amends. The best thing Curt could do was leave the agency because if he stayed, he would just get more people killed.

But he couldn’t cause any harm as a test subject, could he? 

And Barb was still alive. He could still make it up to her.

All he had to do was show up.


	3. Order/Request - Owen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man does paperwork in his study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/5NANaYemJdg?t=129

Deep in the heart of Russia, crammed between two major roadways, was a small street, itself lined with uniform buildings that contained uniform apartments that, in turn, contained very uniform people. One of these people, an older gentleman with a tweed jacket and dark combover, sat alone in his study. Despite his nondescript appearance, he had an unorthodox mind. He peered through his reading glasses at a stack of papers, atop which sat a transcript, translated into Russian.

> November 11th, 1957
> 
> **Discussion with Patient #043**
> 
> [Ivanov]: Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.
> 
> [Smirnov]: The pleasure is mine. Although I don’t have much else to do.
> 
> [Ivanov]: Fair enough. How is the injury treating you?
> 
> [Smirnov]: It’s (pause) frustrating. 
> 
> [Ivanov]: Do you require additional assistance or medication?
> 
> [Smirnov]: No, no. I can do everything fine. It just takes longer than I’d like.
> 
> [Ivanov]: I see. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is unlikely to improve beyond this point. When you have been discharged, you will require ongoing medication and possibly crutches to keep you on your feet.
> 
> [Smirnov]: (sigh) Yes, the doctors discussed this with me.
> 
> [Ivanov]: Then let us discuss exit strategies. There are two main ways to go about this. You can either stay in Russia and pay off your debt or be transferred to your old employer, assuming they are willing to pay the debt for you. 
> 
> [Smirnov]: I doubt they would. Besides, I enjoy the liberties being off the grid affords me.
> 
> [Ivanov]: So you’d rather stay in Russia?
> 
> [Smirnov]: I’m not happy about it, but it’s the lesser of two evils.
> 
> [Ivanov]: I would have thought you were eager to return home to your friends and family.
> 
> [Smirnov]: I don’t have any left.
> 
> [Ivanov]: I am sorry to hear that.
> 
> [Smirnov]: No you’re not.
> 
> [Ivanov]: Truly I am. (pause) If you do not wish to remain in Russia nor return to England, there is a third option, but it carries with it its own risks.
> 
> [Smirnov]: I’m listening.
> 
> [Ivanov]: This remains off the record. You tell this to no one. Understood?
> 
> [Smirnov]: Understood.
> 
> [Ivanov]: Currently, the world’s power is held in the hands of too few. Even if they don’t get us all killed, the common man will not be truly free. I have organized a group who is dissatisfied with the status quo and we are pooling our collective influence to do what we cannot do alone: build a better future.
> 
> [Smirnov]: A better future, how exactly?
> 
> [Ivanov]: Funding research into medicine instead of weapons. Advocating for freedom of the press. Providing humanitarian aid wherever we can. Unfortunately, we need to keep a low profile to avoid making enemies with every world leader. Funny isn’t it, how helping people will put a target on your back?
> 
> [Smirnov]: Tell me about it. But what does this have to do with me?
> 
> [Ivanov]: We are conducting a clinical trial on nerve damage and repair. If you agree to participate, we will pay your debt and move you to the research facility in France.
> 
> [Smirnov]: Will this fix my condition?
> 
> [Ivanov]: Maybe. Or it could kill you.
> 
> [Smirnov]: Nothing new then. Sign me up.

The transcript cuts there. The old man sifted through his files until he came across the correct medical record...

> **Patient #043 Overview**
> 
> Surname: Carvour
> 
> Given Name: Owen
> 
> Affiliation: MI6
> 
> Date of Birth: 07/08/1926
> 
> Date of Death: 12/09/1957
> 
> Date of Admission: 13/09/1957
> 
> Health Status: Stable

The man picked up a black fountain pen and neatly added two lines.

> **Clearance: Level 1**
> 
> **Approved for CHIMERA initiation**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/XpFLkBNIPH0?t=91


	4. Gift/Bribe - Barb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the eye of a hurricane  
There is quiet  
For just a moment  
A yellow sky"  
\- "Hurricane" by Lin Manuel Miranda

Barb hustled up a narrow stairway in a secluded corner of A.S.S. headquarters, a stack of folders in her arms. It felt like she had done nothing but run this past couple of weeks. After the thrill of getting Curt on the project wore off, her life had become inundated with paperwork and setbacks. The only thing keeping her on track was going over her to-do list, her own personal mantra.

_ Deliver the baseline journals, then update the drug charts, then create testing schedules, then review STEM cell procedures. Deliver the baseline journals, then update the drug charts, then create testing schedules, then review STEM cell procedures. _

She reached the right floor and dashed down a series of corridors towards her office slowing to a brisk walk. She couldn’t break safety protocols after all.

_ Journals, drug charts, schedule, procedures. Journals, drug charts, schedule, procedures. _

Barb sighed when she came to a door that needed to be pulled open. She awkwardly maneuvered her elbow between the door and the handle and kicked it the rest of the way open with her heel.

_ Waste of time.  _

By the time she opened her office door, Barb was flushed and breathless. Seeing Curt waiting by her desk didn’t help at all.

“Curt!” she squeaked.

He gave a small smile. “Hi, Barb.”

She set her papers down and turned towards him, arms open for a hug while Curt went for the handshake. She faltered and changed to a handshake, suddenly very self-conscious. God, she probably looked like a mess, whereas Curt looked...well he kind of looked like a mess too. His hair had grown over his ears, his skin was paler, and was that supposed to be a beard on his face? It looked more like it was attacking him. The bags under his eyes suggested he wasn’t getting enough sleep and he-

He was waving a hand in front of her face “Hello? Earth to Barb.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Barb withdrew her hand. “I zoned out. Uh what were you saying?”

“I was just saying it’s nice to see you.” 

“Gee Curt,” she said, perking up a bit, “it's great to see you too. I-We’ve missed you.”

“Great to know someone does,” he said with an exaggerated scoff. “Cynthia wasn’t exactly overjoyed to have me back. She didn’t try to kill me at least.”

“Well you’re not a field agent anymore-er...at the moment.”

“Anymore,” Curt muttered, “I’m done with all that.”

“Oh.”

The silence dragged out as they both took a seat.

“So, what are you doing here?” Barb asked, “Uh, not that I’m not happy to see you. I just wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Curt cleared his throat. “I came to see those really cool gadgets you wanted to show me. And I haven’t seen you since I got here. Thought I’d drop by.”

“Sorry. I’ve been so busy.” 

Which was true, but Barb had also been instructed by Cynthia not to partake in Curt’s clinical trials directly because she would be “emotionally compromised”. She was allowed to see him, just not during work, and she never got off long enough to do so.

“Of course,” Curt said. “You got promoted right? New office and everything.”

“Yeah. It sure beats having a cubicle. Plus there’s been all sorts of new technological advances-”

“Like those cool gadgets. Come on Barb, I’m dying to see them.”

She giggled and pulled a watch from her desk drawer. “This is a new watch we have in development. We’re trying to get it so it will shoot a high-powered laser when you flick your wrist, but we’re having trouble distinguishing that motion from regular daily motion.”

“So it doesn’t work?”

“Not this one. For this you can press the button on the side and it turns on a simple laser pointer.”

“A laser pointer? I wouldn’t exactly call that cool.” Despite his grumblings, Curt put on the watch and played around with the green dot on the wall.

“I’m just getting started,” Barb said. “Check this out!”

And so Barb spent an hour or so showing Curt new inventions: explosive gum, tiny cameras, fire-proof fabric, and a lot of different pens. The red pen would spray whatever was in the cartridge, the black pen concealed a needle (good for tranquillizers or antidotes), and the blue pen wrote in invisible ink that degraded after 24 hours. Finally, Barb handed over an earphone that was wired to a small box.

“A communicator?” Curt asked. “What’s so special about that?”

“Put it on!” Barb urged.

Curt put it in his ear. As soon as Barb turned the box, he jumped.

“It shocked me!”

Barb giggled, “Yep! It’s a lie detector. Or it’s supposed to be. That model just shocks the wearer no matter what.”

Curt rubbed his ear. “Not much of a lie detector then.”

“However, once we get it to work, it will drastically decrease interrogation times and increase the accuracy of the data we collect. We’re even working on making the machine portion portable to send with our agents and informants. Isn’t that awesome?!”

“Yeah, but does it explode?”

“Uh, it’s not supposed to?”

“Well then it’s not  _ awesome.  _ I’ll definitely be keeping the gum.”

Barb inhaled through her teeth. “Thing is, you can’t. You don’t have weapons clearance anymore.”

Curt looked disappointed and she rushed to correct.

“But you can keep the watch and pens! Those fall under general tech and medical.”

He smirked and pocketed the items, “It’s nowhere near rocket shoes, but I guess it’ll have to do.” 

Just then, Barb remembered a pair of brown shoes left somewhere in storage and made a mental note to pick them up after her shift. They would fall under transportation or maybe enhancement, so she might be able to bend the rules a bit on that one.

“Good. I’ll let you know if there are any other cool gadgets you can test out. In the meantime, I really need to get back to work.”

He stood. “Of course. I’m going to get myself some coffee. Do you want anything?”

“No thanks.”

“Alright then. Smell you later.”

Barb looked to her clock and sighed. She was going to have to stay extra late again, but it was well worth it. Seeing Curt gave her butterflies like nothing else and his glee at each of her prototypes, even the ones he pretended to be disinterested in, made her swell with pride. She would do anything to make Curt happy.

Then again, something felt off today. It wasn’t surprising given the circumstances, but Curt was acting a little odd, his normal bravado had become forced and subdued. Barb had grown so used to being dismissed, ignored, or insulted that she couldn’t help but feel slightly suspicious. 

Curt was hiding something, and that secret was keeping him from being his true self. One day, Barb was going to get it out of him.

In the meantime, she had work to do. She pulled the folders on her desk towards her. They were in alphabetical order with one notable exception on top:

Everything looked up-to-date, though Barb found it interesting that an increase in alcohol consumption seemed to loosen Curt's tongue in a social environment. She'd have to review transcripts to see how much information he revealed. It was weird considering Curt liked to drink while undercover and never divulged any information then. Perhaps he didn't drink as much as she thought. Or maybe he viewed being undercover as more of an interrogation. Or maybe his recent change in behaviour had something to do with it.

Oh well, she could hypothesis all night, so she may as well get back to work.

_ _

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love it when an image saves really small so it gets really blurry?
> 
> Anyway, there's a lot of creative license here with what MKU experiments looked like exactly because there's only so much declassified information. 
> 
> On that note: MKUltra was a real set of unethical, sometimes-illegal experiments conducted during the Cold War. Subproject 66 really did look at the effects of alcohol and LSD on personality. So I want you to know that I will try to get things right where I can, but when I take creative liberties, I will not be making light of or glamorizing a very disturbing part of history.


End file.
